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Setting the Stage
Blackmist Castle. It had been far too long since Sinthaster had returned to the bastion of his Order. Lord Commander Lin had done extensive work in expanding the holdings of the Darkmoon Saints during the Sons of Gildor; the town of Rouhburg, of which the Saints held dominion, had nearly doubled in size. New banners flew over the ramparts, new uniforms adorned the resident Vanguard, and the atmosphere was one of power and unity. Sinthaster, despite being away from his Legion, felt home. Nex, however, was giving no inclination of comfort. He had also been sober for some time; he missed no opportunity to remind Sinthaster of this fact. They were waived through the front gates of the castle, taking a soft right until they entered the Lift platform situated outside, just before the inner gate. Large metal cages, constructed of Dwarven craft, were suspended above the floor by sets of huge chains which reached into the upper heights of the castle. Soldiers actively used the Lifts to rapidly ascend to the upper reaches of the construct and save their muscles the ache of a several hundred-foot climb. Despite their hundreds of years of trusted use, it seemed one Nex Belain was hesitant to board. “Come on, Nex,” Sinthaster said, tapping his foot impatiently. “It’s been a long road to get here, don’t make me climb the bloody steps.” “How in all the realms do you trust these things?” Nex said, gesturing to the iron cage Lift before him. “With my life. Chains are inspected daily, the plans are Dwarven made. Dwarven engineering is the finest in the world.” “Do you know who used Dwarven engineering? The Dwarves. Answer me this, Sinthaster: who died? Everywhere?” Sinthaster opened the door to the enclosure, praying to the Seven for patience. “Just get in the damn Lift.” ……… The meeting hall was nearly empty when Sinthaster and Nex arrived. At the far end of the chamber, illuminated by stained-glass glow, stood Lin Soraus and her guard. She seemed deep in conversation, perhaps planning some ceremonial feast for Septaxan. To her side was Coal, her ever-present wolf. “Lord Commander,” Sinthaster said, his voice echoing against the stone. “It is good to see you well. Fight together.” “Never die,” Lin said, following with the Darkmoon salute. She waved her guards to the side, signaling an end to their conversation. She strode forward, ever the pinnacle of stoicism, and looked Nex up and down measuredly. “So this is the intrepid Nex Belain.” “Lord Commander,” Sinthaster said, “I have brought Nex Belain before you this day that he may offer you his account of the sojourn of Lidiya and the sword, Malek’Reth.” Nex stepped forward, fist clenched. “Where is my sword?” There was no hesitation when Sinthaster struck Nex in the face. “You will address the Lord Commander as her rank demands.” It was mostly involuntary, but he would not have done different given the opportunity. Lord Commander Lin deserved his respect, and Nex deserved not to make a fool of himself. He did not bring Nex all this way just for his brash tongue to see his desires crumble to dust. “Quite the fire in this one,” Lin said, studying his physique like he were some slab of meat in the bazaar. “Still, this fire is what allowed him to survive for so long. Who am I to quench it?” “Lin,” Nex said, slower this time. “I mean, Lord Commander Lin, if I may inquire, where is my sword?” “It is no more your sword than it is mine, Belain,” Lin said, petting Coal’s ears. “That artifact belongs only to Maleka, and I would prefer you remember that.” “Trust me,” he said. “No one knows that better than me. Now, where is it?” “Lord Commander,” Sinthaster said, interjecting before Nex said something brash, “If I may, perhaps a show of faith would see this air between us relinquish its animosity? Tell Nex where the sword is, and, on his word, he shall tell you of Lidiya.” Sinthaster looked to Nex, pleading that he agree. He was solemn, even angry that his charge was denied him. He had to understand, though. This weapon was above him, beyond any of them. He needed to see that this was for the best. “If Nex could promise to divulge what he knew of Lidiya, than yes, I would meet this reasonable request. What say you, Nex?” “Aye. Let it be done, then. Now, for the final time, where is Malek’Reth?” Lin bent low to the earth, kissing her wolf on the head. “By the time you arrived at Blackmist, the sword was probably already in the hands of Squire Greyne.” Nex lurched forward, “what did you say?” “Sinthaster was given full custody of the weapon. It was his decision to entrust it to Greyne. He will journey with you into Rhivic, denying you the miasma of its touch that you may heal. Yet, per the trust of the Darkmoon, it will still remain close to you that you retain guardianship over it.” “Fumna’s tits!” Nex roared. “This is absurd!” “Nex!” Sinthaster said, quick to hold his hand lest he slap him again, “mind your tongue. This is an incredibly generous offer; we had every right to hide the sword from you forever.” Nex withdrew into his own malice. It was the angriest Sinthaster had seen him in a long time. “Nex Belain,” Lin said, “Lidiya chose you as her champion. It is true you have had some moderate success guarding that sword. But you are still just a man, and we know that you have succumb to the evil of that sword more than once. Did you not turn on Lidiya herself in the past?” Nex bit his lip. His knuckles turned white. “Nex,” Sin whispered. “Trust us. We know the way of the Seven, we will see this through together.” “You Saints think you’re the only ones with the answers…” “No,” Lin said, “we don’t. That is why we need you, Nex, just as you need us. Now, if you please, it is time for you to tell us what you know of Lidiya.” “If it is the will of the Seven,” Nex said, staring into Sinthaster’s eyes with something beyond betrayal, “then so be it.” ……… Sinthaster had invited Nex into his private chambers for reprieve. The quarters were lavish, as Sinthaster had always liked them, yet Nex seemed unimpressed. He was rather withdrawn, locked away inside himself. Sinthaster knew the toll this would take on his friend; he did not realize it would hurt him as well. “So Nex,” Sinthaster said, pouring a drink from his cabinet. “After a drink with me I’ll show you to your quarters.” Nex pondered the stone walls draped in purple silks and decorated in swords of various makes. “Will my room be as monstrously overdone as this?” Sinthaster laughed, “this is the most luxurious room in the castle, so no.” “Naturally, who but you surround themselves in such a noble manner? You never stopped being one, you know.” “Oh?” Sinthaster said, extending a goblet of wine towards Nex. Nex eyed the drink suspiciously. “Last time I had a drink with you around, I was poisoned and thrown off a building.” “Please, Belain, I never repeat the same trick twice. Besides, the poison wasn’t even my design. Now, drink. It’s fortified wine, some of the best I have.” Nex took it and drank deep. “Now,” Sinthaster resumed, “what was all this about me always being a noble?” “Even after you left Gildor, from what you told me, you always held yourself to an invisible standard of excellence. Always a man of the people but never one of them, a disciple of the Gods because you think you are one.” “Says Lidiya’s Champion. Whether you like it or not, Nex, you have found yourself more than a man. You are a symbol, now. A symbol of hope, a pillar of the people’s faith in the Gods. I’m a Paladin, Belain, and yet I would be astounded if someone chose myself over you in regard to their sway with the Seven.” “What are you getting at?” Sinthaster poured another drink. “If I’m a noble, Nex, then you are a Hero.” Nex scoffed. “It’s true,” Sinthaster said, “which is why it is so important to keep you alive. If you die, or worse, succumb to the evil of Malek’Reth, what will that do to the hope of the people? The Godswalk will only get darker, we need all the Light we can get.” “You don’t have the authority to fabricate morale, or to tell me what to do.” “And you don’t have the authority to stop us.” They were silent, each drinking from their goblets as if the other was not there. Sinthaster finished his drink and poured yet another. “We will get a full written account of your sojourn with Lidiya and Malek’Reth thus far, we will give you some private training, and then I will escort you back to Gildor. The other Crusaders are waiting at Warden’s Gate, ready to venture into Rhivic with their fearless champion.” “Crusaders?” “That’s what you’re being called, now. The Crusaders of Lancerus, destined to return the Seven to their thrones.” Again they drank. “Do you remember,” Nex said, “when the world was softer and everything was simple? When adventures brought us together and nothing in all the realms could stop us?” Sinthaster swirled the drink in his goblet. “Yes.” He looked to Nex, no veil of secrecy hiding his exhaustion. “Another drink, Nex?” Nex smiled. “Empty the bottle.” Category:World Lore